


In the Wilderness

by elistaire



Category: Queen of Swords
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt, which also serves as the summary:  <i>Ah, Dr. Helm and Montoya. A bottle of wine, a prickly pear, and thou, yammering in the wilderness.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Wilderness

It was nearly full dark by the time Dr. Helm and Montoya reached the safety of the leeward shelter. Dr. Helm sagged against the first seat he found, but Montoya strode further into the shelter, lighting several candles and cataloging what was available to them. They had only to survive the remainder of the night and sometime next morning the patrols would find them and bring them back to Santa Elena. Montoya ground his teeth together. Once he was back in the pueblo, he would dispatch troops against the foolish vagabond outlaws that dared to attack his carriage. He hoped the two he had shot were bleeding to death even now.

His sight fell on Dr. Helm, who was near-asleep with his head against the wall, and he released his breath as he counted the one small blessing the situation had caused. There was nothing he could do until morning, so he might as well enjoy the good doctor's company for the night. Satisfied with that anticipation, he continued looking through the shelter's stores. It was mostly blankets and bandages, simple medical supplies that they fortunately didn't need as they'd escaped with their skins intact. But not much in the way of food.

Irritated, he kicked over a bench. Dr. Helm startled awake, on his feet.

"My apologies, Doctor. I knocked over some furniture."

Dr. Helm stepped forward, pointing. "And made the wall bleed."

Montoya twisted back and looked. The bench had knocked into the wall and a large chunk of it had fallen away, and indeed there was a dark red stain seeping into the dry ground. He knelt down and sniffed, cautiously touching his finger to the liquid and then to his tongue. "Not blood, though." He pulled at the chunk near the wall and moved it aside, revealing a broken wine bottle. He eased out the broken pieces--only the neck had snapped off--and discovered a cache of more bottles within. "Ah. My soldiers perhaps have an agreeable reason not to mind patrols out to this forsaken point." He nodded. "Good. Then we can be assured that they will come here when they are meant to. We shall be retrieved."

With a nod, Dr. Helm took a candle and went out into the night. He returned a few minutes later, a grin on his face and two purplish round fruits in his gloved hand. "I noticed these on the way here."

Montoya grinned back and set one of the wine bottles on the one small table. "I hear prickly pear is best enjoyed with a good red." Montoya hoped Helm could hear the opportunity in his voice.

"Then by all means," Dr. Helm answered him, pulling his gloves off with his teeth, "let us enjoy." His smile was languorous, and his eyes were very wicked in the candlelight.


End file.
